


Witches of Aerelon

by Sira, ufp13



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sira/pseuds/Sira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufp13/pseuds/ufp13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years before the attacks Jack met a mysterious woman...<br/>(Yes, for me he still is Jack Cottle)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witches of Aerelon

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written with ufp13.
> 
> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Jack Cottle liked being on Aerelon. It had been five years since he had the chance to come back to the, at least in his opinion, most beautiful of the twelve colonies, but as soon as an opportunity had arisen he had taken it gladly. Life on Aerelon was less hectic than life on Caprica, which suited him well. Life here was more in tune with nature, with the seasons, which was hardly surprising as the planet was what they called the ‘corn chamber’ of the colonies. Of course there were cities, there was industry, but it didn’t compare at all to Caprica where life seemed to pass twice as fast.

“Dr. Cottle, what a pleasure to have you here again. It must have been some years since you’ve been with us for the last time. How long will you be staying?” Erica, the receptionist and owner of one of the smaller hotels in the capital, greeted him with a genuine smile.

“Just for three days. We’re only delivering some meds, and I’ll be giving out some shots here and in some of the smaller villages.”

Erica, who was in her sixties by now, nodded before looking at her computer, typing in some commands. “You’re lucky. I still have a free room, despite of the festival.”

“The festival?”

“Yes, the crop festival. You don’t know about it? That’s surprising. Have you never been here at this time of the year before?”

“I’m afraid not. What’s the crop festival about?”

“The festival? Oh we’re celebrating another successful harvest and try to scare the winter ghosts away.” She laughed out. “You know, the usual nonsense. But it’s always fun. I hope you’ll join us. Well, how could you not. The whole city will be partying tonight.”

“Well, seems I’m really lucky that I still got a room, am I not?” It came out rather gruff but Erica just smiled.

“You bet you are. If someone hadn’t cancelled just two hours ago I couldn’t have done anything. And it’s the same in the whole colony at the moment. Not that there are many hotels anyway, you know that yourself, but even the private guest houses are crowded. Your colleagues can be happy that they stay in orbit.”

“They’ll miss the festival.“ He smiled a small smile. “But that shouldn’t be our problem.”

Jack didn’t bother to tell her that his colleagues weren’t even remotely interested in visiting Aerelon. Most of them came from Caprica, feeling that going down here was beneath them. It was an attitude he couldn’t understand and certainly had never shared. Not that he minded that they had sent him down all alone while the ship was busy with some recon missions. He had never regretted joining the military, but most often he could do without the attitude of his fellow officers.

Erica handed Jack a form which he signed quickly, getting the key to his room in return. “And don’t you dare hiding upstairs. It’s a sin to miss the festival. But it’s a really pity that you don’t have a costume with you. You better prepare yourself to meet witches, ghosts and demons tonight.”

Jack snorted. “I can’t say I’m too afraid, never mind that I don’t need a costume. I’ll go as grumpy doctor. That should be enough to scare people.”

Erica shook her head laughing. “One day someone might even believe you.”

“Oh, I hope they do. See you later.”

Climbing up the old staircase instead of taking the elevator, he went up to the small but tidy, almost cosy room, putting his few belongings into the closet before collapsing onto the bed. Staring up the ceiling, he thought about the other times he had been here on missions or on vacation. Theodora, his late wife, had loved the colony as much as he did, and his best memory was still the one of their honeymoon where they spent some time right here in that hotel before moving on to the Southern side to lake Zeus.

He sighed before sitting up again. It would neither do sink into self pity nor to fall asleep. It was almost dusk, and if he took a shower now he might just be ready in time for the festival.

***

Streets were crowded when he left the hotel. It was less walking anywhere but being carried along by the masses hurrying into the same direction. As Erica had mentioned most people were in costumes, with demons seemingly in particular high regards.

There were bonfires in the distance, and soon Jack realised that this was where everyone was heading, where he was pushed to. There was a family of three in front of him, the father carrying his daughter, a girl of maybe five who looked like a fat orange pumpkin in her costume, on his shoulders, a man and a woman both mimicking grime reappears to his right. The man had the arm around the shoulder of the woman; she was smiling up at him. They clearly were in love. An ache long ignored spread inside of Jack’s chest, and he grabbed for a cigarette, cursing when he found that his hands were slightly shaking. Not for the first time in his life, he realised that it was possible to feel completely alone surrounded by countless others.

When he neared the bonfires Jack heard the music. It was native songs; Aerelon folk songs, ones he still remembered from times past. Memories of his wife humming them during their honeymoon came back to him. She had always loved them. In fact, she had tried more than once to convince him to move here. Had he known he would lose her so soon, that they didn’t have the time to wait for his retirement, he would have granted her this wish. Although he was adapted in shielding his emotions from others, his wife had always seen right through him. He, in turn, would have done almost everything for her. He shook his head to clear it. Theodora was dead, nothing would bring her back.

Now, having arrived at their destination, the moving crowd of people dispended to all kinds of places around the large plaza, finally granting Jack some breathing space. All around the place were booths in safe distance to the bonfires, offering food or drinks. After looking around for a while, marvelling over the richness and details of the costumes displayed, Jack looked around where to best get something to drink, finally deciding to try his luck at a table where three women in witch costumes were handing out something looking resembling punch.

“A cup of punch,” he ordered when it was his turn. The witch that had just handed some non-alcoholic punch to a young girl turned to him. Although it was dark and only the nearby fires lightened the night, he became fascinated with her eyes at once. He couldn’t be entirely sure but they seemed to be of a light green, sparkling with humour and intelligence.

“Please.”

“Pardon me?” he said startled at her voice, realising he had been staring.

“A cup of punch, please,” she said, obviously amused. Her voice was melodic, and Jack instinctively knew that she wasn’t from here, but most likely from Caprica like he was. She wore a tight, black dress, which showed a good deal of cleavage, giving more than just a hint of what lay beneath it, while the dress itself clung to all the right places. What really got to him though was her hair. A thick mane of wavy auburn hair was cascading down her back, glowing in the soft light. On top of it was a black, silken looking pointed head, completing the ensemble.

“So you would like a cup of punch, right?” She sounded impatient now, her eyes clouding, and Jack snapped out of it.

“Yes, but I think I already said so. But if you need for me to repeat myself. A cup of punch, please.”

“No need to be snappy.” She turned away from him to get him his drink. “And only for the record, is this scowl you’re sporting your costume? It’s really effective I have to say.”

“Snappy? Correct me if I’m wrong, young lady, but it was actually you who started this.”

She stopped in mid-motion, turning to him, a snort escaping her. “Would you please take a rain check? All I tried was to be friendly. And young lady? How old do you think you are?”

This woman had moxie, Jack had to give it to her. If he weren’t in a bad mood and if it wouldn’t collide with the picture of himself he preferred to show to the world in general, he would give into the urge that threatened to curve the corners of his mouth upwards.

“Old enough to be your father anyway,” he growled, suddenly wishing for another cigarette.

At this she laughed. “I’m impressed. You must have started at a very tender age then, haven’t you?”

“I don’t think so, but maybe you need glasses, lady.” At his estimate she was about thirty years old, while he had just celebrated his fifty-first birthday.

Before she could reply, a man behind him piped up. “It’s nice that your folks are having fun, but could you please give this man his punch so that others can get something to drink as well?”

She froze for just a second, looking clearly irritated, handing Jack his punch, before concentrating on the man that had just spoken to her. “And what can I get you?” Her voice was overly sweet. Jack escaped a chuckle against his will. He was sure this woman could have that guy for breakfast if she wanted to. Hearing his chuckle, she turned to him for a short moment, eyebrow raised, before ignoring him completely. Still annoyed but amused, Jack left.

He walked around for a bit, although he had no idea where to go, where he wanted to go. The bonfires were crackling loudly as he could hear when he neared one. He was mesmerized by the play of the flames that made this fire look so oddly alive. Fire that was licking at the wood people had piled up on the ground only to destroy it with its deadly kiss once it had laid a claim on it. People were wandering in and out of the shadows, but Jack hardly noticed. He wasn’t part of this crowd, part of this festival. He was just a stranger who was swept here. Those people around him, they were cheerful, he was not. It was not that he didn’t want to connect with anyone, didn’t want to feel the elation others seemed to feel. In fact he longed to feel carefree once again but he couldn’t. Not here, not now. Not with images of Theodora haunting him.

Theo was dead for three years now, but still there wasn’t a day when he didn’t miss her fiercely. She had been a soft woman, one who had been unfazed by his grumpy attitude, a woman who could sweep him of his feet with just a smile. Something he had never told her, but something he knew that she had known. Theo would have loved to be here, would have tried to drag him to the people dancing some way over there in the distance. He almost thought he could hear her soft laughter.

“They built these bonfires to banish any ghosts and demons, not to invite them in, you know.”

Jack turned to find that the witch who had helped him to his punch had appeared beside him. She was smirking at him, this odd mixture of ire and bemusement rising up in him again. “And that’s supposed to mean?”

“That you look like you’ve seen a ghost or better said like you could kill one.”

“And that would be any of your business why?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Well, in fact it isn’t, but you looked like you could use some company. It seems I was wrong. My fault. If you’ll excuse me, please.” She turned on her heels, leaving at a brisk pace. He stared after her bewildered until he had gathered his wits, trailing after her as fast as he could.

“Don’t you have drinks to sell?” he asked when he had caught up with her. For a moment he thought she would just ignore him, but then she looked up at him.

“I don’t think this is any of your business, is it?”

He raised his hands into the air in mock exasperation. “Gods, woman. Are you always that complicated? And could we please slow down a bit?”

“Are you always that grumpy?” she shot back, but, thankfully, she walked slower now.

“Yes, I am. All part of the charm.”

It took her by surprise, and she broke out into laughter. “Ah, I see, but let me tell you that’s not how you capture a devoted audience.”

“Who says I want one?” He had followed her without paying attention to where they were going, being surprised when he found that they came to a sudden halt at a table where they sold cornbread.

“You want one, too?” she asked him.

“I… well… yes.” It seemed she was always one step ahead of him. It irritated him. She irritated him. Never mind that she seemed to know it, or at least sense it, as a smirk played around her lips. Ordering two cornbreads, she took some coins, paying for her purchase, handing one cornbread to Jack while taking the other.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Want to sit down for a bit? My feet are killing me.” He followed her gaze to her feet which were stuck in black high heels.

“I can imagine. But if you didn’t realise it; there’s nowhere to sit here.”

“Well, if you’re up for a ten minutes walk I know a place.”

This was crazy, he didn’t know why he even contemplated following a complete stranger, but he found himself nodding.

“Then lead the way.”

“I will, because I don’t think you know it.”

“Gods woman, give it a break,” he muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. But are you always that… whatever?” He grabbed for a cigarette, lighting it quickly and taking a deep drag.

“Yes, I am, and those things can kill you, you know?”

“Is that a fact?”

“Ask your doctor. He or she would agree with me.”

“I am a doctor, thank you very much.”

She stopped, looking him up and down. “I see. Well, then you really should know better.”

For a moment he contemplated to just turn around, but his feet seemed to move on their own volition. Maybe it was that this woman challenged him, that she didn’t seem to bother with his grumpy exterior. By now they had left the immediate circle of bystanders, the bonfires becoming smaller in the distance. Although the lighting out here was dim with only some torches who were placed on the ground in irregular intervals lighting the way, she was seemingly sure of the way, leading them forward at a steady space.

True to her word, they stopped after about ten minutes at some random bench that stood along a deserted walkway. She sank down onto it with groan, shedding her shoes immediately, her toes curling into the soft, cold grass beneath. “Finally.”

Jack sat down beside her, leaving a respectable distance between them. “How long have you been handing out punch anyway?”

“Six hours straight.”

“In these shoes?”

She nodded. “In these shoes.”

“And you lecture me about my smoking? Why do you insist on torturing yourself?”

“Don’t you know nothing about women and their penchant for beautiful shoes?”

“I know a lot about women and their stupidity.”

She swallowed the last of her cornbread, laughing out. “And thanks the gods for men and their superior intellect? Well, at least we figured out that there is nothing wrong with your ego after all.”

“Did you drag me out here to have your fun with me?” He chewed on his last bites of cornbread with more vigour than was strictly necessary.

“No, but it is an amusing side effect.”

“So that leaves the question why you dragged me out of here.”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Gods, you are infuriating.”

“Why, thank you.” She laughed again. “Honestly, you didn’t look all too happy over there, and I hardly know anyone here. I thought we might as well be miserable together.”

He turned to her, giving her a long look. Despite her easy going manners and sometimes outright infuriating behaviour, she looked tense. Something was bothering her; just like something, someone, Theodora, was bothering him. He didn’t ask what it was she had on her mind, just as she didn’t ask him about the ghosts haunting him.

“I can think of better things than being miserable.” He nearly winced when the words left his mouth. He didn’t mean to sound like he was suggesting they…

“There are? What do you have in mind?” She was teasing him, her green eyes sparkling, even in the dim lighting. Part of him couldn’t believe that a beautiful, young woman like her actually wanted to spend some time with him rather than partake in the festival.

“You aren’t from here, are you?”

She tilted her head watching him. “Neither are you.”

“Neither am I. Why did you come here, and what made you sell punch?”

“I came for a friend’s wedding, the same friend that’ll move here and made me sell said punch. And from tomorrow on I’ll be working here. You?”

“Work. Giving shots. What’s your name?”

She shook her head. “Aren’t we done playing twenty questions, yet?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “That terrible a name, huh?”

“No. But do you really need a name?” Her voice had dropped a register, and she watched him, waiting. For what Jack could imagine but not believe. Such things didn’t happen. Not to him anyway. Gods, she was beautiful. She could be dancing in the arms of any man over there at the bonfires. What was she doing here? What was she trying to forget? Because that she didn’t want him first and foremost but to forget about herself for a while was clear to him. Wasn’t it the same with him? Didn’t he want the same? Didn’t he want to forget, if only for a few precious minutes to not feel the void left by Theodora’s death? He couldn’t take of advantage of any woman, though. That wasn’t what he was like. That wasn’t what he could, would do to any woman. But didn’t she want him to do just that?

“You think too much, you know?”

He snapped out of it. “Something wrong with that?”

“Don’t know. There’s certainly a time to think, but that’s not it.” A smile played around her lips.

He shook his head. “You don’t want that.”

She snorted. “Thanks, but you don’t need to defend my virtue.”

As if he wanted. He was just a simple man after all. A man who didn’t have a frak in more years than he liked to count. It became harder with every passing second to behave like a gentleman and not to think about how it might feel to pull her to him, to kiss her hard, deep; to feel her skin under his fingertips.

“Look, forget it.” She got up, and Jack realised he had been quiet for too long a time again. Spurred into action by her words, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him, kissing her hard on the lips. Although obviously not very surprised by the turn of events, she took her time giving in to the demands of his probing tongue to part her lips and grant him entrance to her mouth. But when she finally did, it became clear that this was what she had been aiming for because she gave as good as she got.

Jack’s pants tightened. If this was any indication of what was following, he was in for one hell of a frak. His hands couldn’t resist the siren’s call of her hair, they had to find out if it felt as good as it looked. Her hat that already had been slightly askew was dislodged fully by his greedy fingers, landing somewhere behind her in the grass. As great as this felt, the position was awkward and getting more uncomfortable with the minute, so he forced his hands to leave the soft, auburn tangle for a tour down her body to her behind. Willingly, she followed his push and settled astride onto his lap after having pulled up her skirt which nice as it was proved to be a bit restrictive when it came to physical activity other than staying and handing out punch.

The warmth that emanated from the apex of her legs soaked his pants. Even through the fabric, he could feel that she was as aroused as he was, and the close contact of her heightened this feeling. Granting the urgency running through his veins the upper hand, he reached under her skirt without further ado, pushing the damp slip out of the way. His fingers sought out her opening and sank into the wetness to the sound of her moaning. A louder, single cry as he touched a sensitive spot reminded him of their exposed location. His form tensed under her, his fingers stilling within her.

“Stop thinking!” She nearly growled at him before rocking against his hand and pressing his face into her cleavage. Squeezing his erection through his pants, she drove her point home. His focus narrowed down to the frakable form in his arms and the arousal flooding his body.

Fast, as if she feared he might rethink his decision to stop thinking, she opened his pants. Her fear though was unfounded, and he thought he heard a relieved sigh escape her lips when he pulled his fingers out of her to assist pulling his pants and underwear down, but it might have been just the soft wind that wrapped itself around them.

As soon as his hard length was freed of its confines, her finger enclosed it, stroked it, squeezed it while rubbing herself against his thigh. The motion made her breasts wobble, always on the edge of spilling out over the plunging neckline; and spilling out they did as Jack pulled the material a tad bit lower. He moulded his hands around the creamy, soft flesh, massaged it slightly, teased the dark peaks, making her moan lowly into the dark.

The grip on his erection tightened, and it was his turn to growl in pleasure. Those sounds escaping his throat grew even louder when she suddenly raised herself onto his knees only to sink down on him in one swift move. His moans were joined by his, joining in the air just like the bodies of their originators.

While she held still to give her body some time to accommodate the intruder, he lavished kisses, nips and licks on her breasts, worshipping the roundness of forms he hadn’t laid hands or eyes on since too long a time – medical purposes aside, which didn’t count for he always suppressed any appreciation for what was presented to him at those occasions out of pure professionalism. His thoughts switched from the matter at hand to more self-centred ones though when she clenched her inner walls around him before starting to move her hips in a languid rhythm.

Pushing his pelvis upward antithetically to her motions, Jack tried to intensify the feeling the motions created, to turn the lazy pace hard for as nice as it felt it wasn’t enough. His body overruled his mind that would have really liked to enjoy the sensation of something that wasn’t his own hand around his cock, to savour the female flesh above him, surrounding him, but his long-denied body demanded satisfaction.

With his hands on her buttocks, he guided her to a faster, harder rhythm, pounding in and out of her; not that she showed any signs of resistance. The goal-oriented seemed to be fine with her. In the quest of more stimulation, she rubbed her nipples against his chest, following the motion of her hips. Switching his hold on her so he balanced her ass on only one arm, he grabbed her mane with the other hand, pulling her head back rather forcefully. Her bent-back torso presented him with good access to her breasts. As he started to suck and bite her nipples, she lost the rhythmicity of her motions; they became more frantic and erratic. At that speed, it didn’t take long for Jack to loose it. Accompanied by a loud groaned, he emptied himself into her pulsing form, all the while delivering some more thrusts, one of which sending her over the edge as well. Her scream of sweet release didn’t even register with him, and he couldn’t have cared less whether someone heard it, her, them, or not. He had been thoroughly frakked and was flooding on a clout of hormonal happiness.

Sweat cooling on their skin, their breathings heavy, she sat sacked into his embrace, while he enjoyed the steadiness of the bench.

With a slight sigh, she disentangled from him. Although Jack knew it had to be, he missed their intimate connection instantly. Now that he had been reminded of what he had missed in the last years, he didn’t want to let go, even if reality demanded otherwise.

Her legs were visibly unsteady when she tried to stand, and he reached out for her, his arms at her hips, steadying her, while she righted her clothes. When she was done, she sat down beside him, Jack taking the time to tuck himself in.

He turned to look at her, but she stared ahead into the distance. Her face was serious, having Jack wonder what it was she was thinking about. It was so obvious that there was something troubling her, but still he knew it wasn’t for him to know.

“That was… “

“Unexpected?” she finished for him, turning to face him. Now there was a smile on her face, one he couldn’t help but to return.

“You could say that.” His voice had lost his usual gruffness, something she realised as well, amusement visibly on her face.

“I enjoyed it.”

“Me too.” She didn’t have any idea how much he had enjoyed it really, but how could she? She was young, beautiful, she could have a new lover any day if she wanted to. He, in comparison, had hardly ever thought about other women since Theo’s death. For an anxious moment he asked himself if he hadn’t betrayed Theo but something inside of him told him that she wouldn’t have minded, that she would want to see him happy. Right now he was.

“Still don’t want to tell me your name?” he asked after some time had passed in companionable silence.

“What would it change?” Her voice was soft, with only a tinge of sadness.

“One never knows.” He took one of her hands into his, stroking her palm with a calloused thumb.

She took a deep breath, extricating her hand from his. “Believe me you wouldn’t want to become entangled with me.” Leaning forward, she brushed his lips with hers. It was just the faintest of contacts, being over nearly before it had begun. She got up, a smile on her lips. “Fare well.” She turned around, walking away from him without looking back even once.

Jack was torn. For a moment he contemplated following her, but what could he possibly say to her? They really didn’t know each other. Would he even want to get to know her better? Yes, part of him wanted, as crazy as it was, but if she didn’t want to; no, he wouldn’t follow her like a lovesick fool. His heart gave a painful lurch at seeing her go, so he closed his eyes until he was sure she was gone.

After some time had passed, he started to shiver, realising for the first time that it had gotten colder within the last hour. He debated with himself whether to go back to the festival or the hotel but decided for the hotel. The last thing he wanted was to meet her again. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her then.

There were still lots of folks on the streets, but the hotel itself was nearly deserted, only a lonely night clerk keeping watch. Back in his room, he took a quick shower, washing away the last traces from their encounter, although he felt strangely reluctant to erase her smell from his skin. A foolish notion. This night it took him a long time to fall asleep.

***

The next day, Jack started giving out shots in some of the schools in Aerelon’s capital. It was an administration sponsored campaign, so Caprica’s mayor was there as well, posing for photographs, giving interviews. Jack hated such ruckus, trying to stay out of the way as much as possible.

Smoking yet another cigarette, he went in search of a cup of coffee. He was tired, felt drained. Last night, surreal as it had been, was the best and worst thing that had happened to him in years. The best, because it had showed him that he wasn’t dead, yet, that he shouldn’t give up on life, hope, love. The worst as it made him ache; ache for someone he didn’t even know, someone he couldn’t have. Bewitched, true to her costume, this fiery redhead had bewitched him. Not that he could do anything about it; he didn’t even know her name. If muscles, long unused, hadn’t ached this morning he might have even thought that everything had been only a dream. But it hadn’t. Unbelievable as it was, he had been frakked by gorgeous woman last night, one he shouldn’t have let go just like that. He was realist enough to know that it was likely that nothing would have ever come of it, but as it was now he would never know.

The only thing he could do now was to try to change life for himself. Back on Caprica he should try to rethink his life, maybe contemplating to drop out of service. He wasn’t too old for a new start, yet. When he had been younger he had dreamed of working as practical doctor planet side, maybe he could try to look for a spot to start over. There was still life to be lived. He knew that if Theo was still with him now she would encourage him to do just that. He sighed, if he could only turn back time; he would drop out of service without batting an eyelid and enjoy his time with Theo. He would make the years they had last. He chided himself for being a fool. No matter what he thought and wished, he only had the present.

Leaning back against a tree in the school’s deserted play yard, he had to wait for about half an hour until mayor Adar, followed by his staff and the press left the building. He scanned the crowd, not really interested in what they were doing as long as they were leaving, when he spotted something that made his breath hitch. In midst of all those people he caught a glimpse of a thick red mane. Like in trance Jack moved towards the crowd, but he wasn’t fast enough, only catching another sight of them when one after the other entered a bus which was waiting for them in front of the school. For just a moment he had another glimpse of long, slender legs belonging to a slim red head. It couldn’t be, could it? He would need to have a real look to be sure but the woman had already disappeared into the bus which had dark toned windows.

Was his witch really a member of the mayor’s staff? No, it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. He shook his head before retreating back to school. He had a job to do. He couldn’t spend his day pining and daydreaming. What had happened had happened. It was time to get a grip, to forget it, to take it for what it was. A fantastic frak, a reminder that he was still alive, that he hadn’t died along with Theo. With a sigh, he went back to work.

***

Jack was surprised when he heard that the president wanted to see him. Of course he knew about their newly reinstated president, but he had never personally seen her or even a picture of her. The end of the world had a way of keeping one busy, especially when one ended up being the senior medic of the rest of humanity. Not one of the last days had passed without him wishing that he had been planet side while the nukes hit so that he didn’t have to live through this.

He lit up another cigarette. He didn’t have time for the president. He really hadn’t. There were people out there which really needing his help. As far as he knew the president was a healthy woman, so why did she think she could take up his time for something as mundane as a cough, headaches or whatever it was she thought was ailing her. He had a job to do, and, frankly, so had she.

Jack closed his eyes for just a few seconds, enjoying the feel of the smoke filling his lungs, calming him. Why was it that he was spared? Why should he feel thankful for having been spared? He was old, and now he didn’t have something to look forward to. Like Adama the plan had been to retire after Galactica’s decommissioning. He had wanted to move to Aerelon, to spend his last years in peace, fishing, building a simple life for him. But now? He had heard about Earth, that Adama had told people that there was still a place for them out there. He didn’t believe him, and even if he did, why would he want to reach Earth. There was nothing waiting for him there.

He heard the telltale click of heels, shaking his head. Humanity was nearly distinct, the cylons were hot on their heels and people were dying almost every other hour, but it seems that decorum was still important to some people.

Jack turned, putting out his cigarette stub.

“Dr. Cottle?” The voice was soft, yet determined. Something wanted to trigger a memory in him, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Turning around to greet his visitor, he found he couldn’t close his mouth. No frakking way. This woman; she was the one he had met on Aerelon all this years before. She was older now, as was he, but it was still her. She was beautiful, breathtaking, age having been graceful to her, adding to her beauty instead of diminishing it.

Shaking his head and taking a closer look, he could see his own shock mirrored on her face. So she remembered him too. But… but this wasn’t just a woman he had frakked nearly twenty years ago. This was the gods damned President of the Twelve Colonies. No matter what had been, he couldn’t just drag this out onto the table, especially not now, not in the situation they found themselves in. He cleared his throat.

“Madame President, what can I do for you?”

For a moment a sad smile graced her face before she straightened her shoulders, obviously willing to play along.

He could feel his lips curving upward when the look in her eyes, stopped him cold, the profound sadness he saw in them shilling him to the bone.

“I need you to confirm a diagnosis. Back on Caprica I was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer.”

The world suddenly seemed to shrink another notch, and for a moment Jack Cottle forgot to breathe before relying on his professionalism, getting to work as if she were just another patient, albeit an important one.

The End


End file.
